


Under the Full Moon

by Oakwyrm



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Bittersweet, Curses, Ghosts, M/M, Moonlight, Piano, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakwyrm/pseuds/Oakwyrm
Summary: Once a month for a single hour the grand piano in the ballroom of the mansion on the hill starts to play.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: this was not what I had in mind when I started writing this. But I guess this is what you get.

The full moon hung serenely in the sky, bathing the graveyard in a soft and eerie light. Not far from the rows of tombstones stood a mansion. It's windows were dark and not a thing seemed to be stirring inside its' walls. There was no living soul within the walls. It didn't look like a place where anyone was supposed to reside. It hadn't for several years.

Somewhere, deep inside the house, a great grandfather clock that had against all odds survived the test of time, struck midnight. In the grand ballroom and old, dusty grand piano started a soft tune played by unseen hands. The haunting melody crept slowly down the corridors of the mansion, waking a sleeping magic to life again.

As the unseen pianist continued to play two figures became slowly visible on the dance floor. Illuminated by the pale moonlight shining through the panelled windows of the ballroom they danced a slow waltz. They seemed unconcerned by the dust in the air and the cobwebs that had long since grown out of the corners to cover most of everything.

The dancers were unconcerned with all but each other. Despite the tranquillity of their unheard steps there seemed almost to be a current of urgency running through the both of them. A need to be near one another, a need for the warmth of living breath and blood running through living veins.

The light of the moon revealed clearly what neither wanted to admit. Their forms were transparent as they walked the floors without ever disturbing the dust settled there from years of neglect. Ghostly lovers united only under the light of a full moon as long as the unseen hands played that haunting tune.

Harper broke from the waltz, his hand still in Verne's, and began to lead his partner through the mansion.

The courtyard wasn't hard to reach as they passed easily through walls and other obstacles that would have posed more of a problem to them in life. The full moon hung above them when they stopped by the trunk of a dead tree.

It's branches rattled in a wind they could not feel as they stood there, listening quietly to the still audible music of the grand piano. Verne was the one who took the lead this time, floating gently upwards and pulling Harper along with him. They flew, two quiet spirits, above the graveyard and the mansion's roof.

Far up into the night they flew. Perhaps someone, looking from the ground, may have seen two indistinct shapes against the moon, moving almost as if they were dancing and their heart might have ached, though they would not have known the cause of their sudden pain.

Harper and Verne flew to the very edge of Verne's land, or what had once been his land, before they could go no further. There was a forest here, darker than the halls of the mansion. The moonlight filtered through the trees but it did little to light the world around them.

Not that either one of them cared, they had no need for light and in the darkness their forms seemed more solid. They moved quietly through the trees. They were not always this silent on the nights when the grand piano played, but sometimes words were futile and they would spend all of their allotted time in silence.

They were bitter-sweet, these times when the two of them could see each other. One hour every month. It hardly seemed enough. But it was all they had so they had to make due. They had found many ways over the years to fill the lonely nights when the moon was not yet full.

Verne played the piano. It had started as a vague thought. An idea that maybe he could see Harper if only the piano was playing. But every magic has rules that cannot be broken. For them it was to be ever parted save for that one, precious hour. Still he played. He found the music chased away some of the loneliness.

Harper had made Verne's old study his home. He had read and re-read every book and scroll. He had tried to write, once. Thinking maybe that Verne might see the note and even though they could not see or hear one another, that they may be connected in that way.

The next full moon had revealed his hopes to be for naught. So he wandered the corridors of the mansion. There was nothing left to explore on the ground or within the walls any more. He had seen it all time and time again. But he found the familiar rooms to be a comfort, now, rather than the prison they would have seemed in life. The familiar halls that still echoed with Verne's footsteps even all these years later.

The towns people feared them. Or they feared the _thought_ of them. It had been many a long, long year since any had dared set foot within the haunted mansion where the spirits of an evil necromancer and his bride still roamed the halls. Harper might have been offended that he had in the long years and over countless retelling been morphed into your typical ghostly bride. A tragic spirit, ever searching but never finding what she was seeking, but since the rumours kept people away from the mansion he honestly couldn't bring himself to care.

The two stopped at the edge of a moonlit clearing. Verne leaned against Harper and the two of them watched the moon travel slowly across the sky. Even as far as they were from the mansion they felt rather than heard the clock strike one.

The kiss that they shared was as soft as it was urgent. Their time was running out however hard they struggled to hold on. There was no force pulling them apart. Nothing they could truly fight. Just a slow fading of shapes, colours, voices and touch. Softly whispered words of love and longing died on the wind as their shapes finally vanished from view. The curse separating them once again for another month of slow waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> I have written a completely dialogue free fic! How? Fuck if I know.


End file.
